


got a secret (can you keep it?)

by orphan_account



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 15:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10516632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dirk is bad at keeping secrets. He always has been; even as a child, the art of secrecy evaded him totally. He can’t help but want to be as open as possible, years locked away cultivating a need to share as much with those around him as he can. This becomes clear to Todd as soon as Dirk mentions keeping their new romance quiet.Five times Dirk denies being blatantly in love with Todd and one time he doesn't even bother.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quingigillion (cartouche)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartouche/gifts).



> Title is from the Pretty Little Liars theme tune because it sounded cool. Alternate titles include "vienna" and "lilli tries yet another fanfic trope"

_**one** _

Dirk is bad at keeping secrets. He always has been; even as a child, the art of secrecy evaded him totally. He can’t help but want to be as open as possible, years locked away cultivating a need to share as much with those around him as he can. This becomes clear to Todd as soon as Dirk mentions keeping their new romance quiet.

“I just- It feels… unprofessional, perhaps. I’ve just promoted you-“ At this, Todd snorts derisively, but waves Dirk on. “-and I don’t want Farah or anyone else to think it’s because we’re… copulating.”

“ _Dirk!”_ Todd hisses, lightly slapping him on the arm to Dirk’s curious look. “We’re not, like, zoo animals or something. You don’t have to be so biological.”

“Shagging, then,” Dirk says with a decisive nod, before beaming at Todd like the other’s told him they’ve won the lottery. Todd groans, resisting the urge to whack his head against the wall. “I promoted you for merit alone; you’ve developed quite the skill in detecting recently.”

“Yeah?”

Dirk nods, and glances around in an almost comically suspicious manner. “I think you’re a _very_ good detective,” he murmurs in a low voice, clearly trying his hand at flirting. Todd is ashamed to say it works, and he clears his throat, unconsciously shifting closer to the man perched on the desk. Dirk grins, reaching up to lightly touch the back of Todd’s neck, pulling him closer, until-

“So they didn’t have any caramel syr- Am I interrupting?”

Amanda is standing in the doorway with a grin very much like Dirk’s when he gets to choose the takeout restaurant. Todd doesn’t even need to look at her to know she’s wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. It’s a good job, since he doesn’t get the chance.

At the sound of Amanda, Dirk shoves himself as far away from Todd as humanly possible, nearly falling off the edge of the desk in the process. “No! No, not at all, we were- we were- Todd was-“

“I understand just fine,” Amanda gives an almost ravenous grin, setting down the coffees on the next nearest desk and giving Todd a look that clearly says _‘Go for it’_ before backing out of the room. Todd lets out a breath, slouching against the desk with carding a hand through his hair. Conversely, Dirk stands rigid next to him, compulsively smoothing his shirt out like a preening parrot. His cheeks are dusted pink, and he couldn’t look more like a child caught stealing a cookie if he tried.

“So much for the secret-keeping, hm?” Todd tries, and Dirk frowns, affronted.

“I think we got away with it, Todd. Have more faith.”

Todd knows they haven’t gotten away with it even then, but when his phone buzzes immediately after her leaving, he knows Amanda’s not fooled in the slightest.

 

_**two** _

The breathy moan from inside the closet makes Farah pinch the bridge of her nose with a resigned sigh. It’s not like she doesn’t know who it is; Dirk lacks the ability to effectively whisper in near-death situations, let alone when he’s slightly tipsy and very much alive.

She doesn’t want to interrupt, really, truly – nothing could be less appealing than watching Todd apparently eating Dirk’s face like a hungry shark – but also she wants to get her coat and _leave_. Amanda is waiting, and they have… plans. She takes a breath, and knocks. No response. Another knock and a pointed cough later, there’s still no answer, and Farah is not one to hang about. She opens the door wide, unsurprised to catch Dirk pressing Todd against the coats, and clears her throat.

The speed at which Dirk puts space between himself and Todd is almost impressive, should it not be so intensely uncomfortable to watch Todd’s face fall as he starts to miss the contact.

“We were just-!”

“Dry humping? Yeah. I need my coat.” Farah gestures, eyes fixed anywhere but Todd’s swollen lips and the hickeys forming on his neck.

“Excuse you. I would never _dry hump_ my assistant, Farah. That’s- That’s against agency regulations. I’m sure.”

“Dirk, you make the regulations,” Todd huffs, shuffling over to allow Farah to grab her jacket. “Sorry.”

Farah does little more than quirk an eyebrow, before leaving, shutting the door behind her and leaving the pair in the dark.

To his credit, Dirk waits a full five seconds before moving to pick up where they left off.

He receives a sharp smack on the arm for his trouble.

 

_**three** _

“But Todd, _why_ did they have to kill him, this is a horrible film, Todd, why have you done this,” Dirk mumbles, from where his face is pressed against Todd’s neck. The smaller man is grinning despite the sombre film playing, running his fingers through Dirk’s hair fondly.

“Because that’s just how it was written, love,” he laughs, soft and gentle, and something in Amanda’s chest shifts. She’s unfamiliar with this Todd, a Todd who smiles easily and gives affection without limits. She can’t move her eyes from the canoodling couple on the couch to the screen as hard as she tried; it’s captivating to see her brother so… _happy_. It’s so open, so free, and it makes her happy too. She nudges Farah lightly in the side, and the woman stirs, opening one eye in question.

“Look at this pair,” Amanda grins, indicating the two with her head. “They’re so damn soft.”

Farah gives a soft snort. “Yeah, but they’re definitely not in love or anything. I’m sure of it.”

“We’re not,” comes a muffled voice from across the room.

Amanda blushes pink. “I thought I was being quiet,” she shrugs sheepishly, and Dirk lifts his head, shifting slightly away from Todd’s side. Amanda doesn’t miss the hurt that crosses Todd’s expression once more.

“You weren’t. And we’re not. Together,” Dirk responds. “We’re just friends. Best friends. But friends. And totally appropriate colleagues.”

“Sure,” Todd mutters.  “Just friends.” The hurt expression is gone now, replaced with one more resigned and just sad.

They watch the rest in silence.

 

_**four** _

“That was- Jesus Christ, Dirk!” Todd is panting, cheeks rosy-red from exertion as he collapses against the side of the van. He’s smiling, and Dirk can’t help himself.

He takes a step forward, closing the space between them and pushing Todd against the van with vigour, his own veins filled with adrenaline. That comes with being shot at, he thinks, nipping at Todd’s lip insistently. Todd gives in without protest, lips parting and tongue darting out to tangle with Dirk’s. It’s nice, normal, in a way.

Todd’s never silent for long after this sort of this, pulling way to gasp for breath and exclaim enthusiastically. “I can’t believe the way you dodged that shot! How did you even see that guy, he was in total camouflage- oh my god, Dirk-“ he punctuates with another kiss, firm and excited. “We nearly _died_ , oh my god.”

“You’re remarkably chipper after a dance with death, Todd,” Dirk grins when they next break, allowing himself to slip his hands down to Todd’s backside. “I’ll have to get you nearly-shot more often.”

Todd rolls his eyes and goes in for another kiss, but they’re interrupted by a faint jeering that reminds them where they are. Dirk steps back so quickly he nearly falls over, cheeks colouring crimson. From inside the van, Todd can _hear_ the Rowdy Three’s raucous laughter, and winces slightly as he sees the driver’s window roll down.

Martin smirks at them, ignoring the effort Dirk is taking to smarten up and avoid eye contact. “Get in, lovebirds. It’s time to move.”

The doors open up, and Todd nearly falls in through the gap, just about regaining his composure enough to crawl in, perching next to Amanda and steadfastly ignoring her teasing. Dirk follows, sheepish, and tries to sit as far from Todd as possible – an attempt foiled instantly by Gripps.

“We’re gonna let you lovebirds sit together,” he grins tauntingly, shoving Cross aside with a laugh.

Dirk resettles, rolling his eyes and tensing his shoulders. “We’re not lovebirds. We’re friends. Can we just go?”

“Sure thing,” Martin calls as he starts the engine, but Dirk doesn’t miss his wedding-march whistling as they roll along.

 

_**five** _

“- so it would mean a great deal to myself and Brian if you could find the motorbike and bring it back – it’s sentimental of course-“

Dirk’s hand is resting near-possessively on Todd’s waist, fingers tracing idle circles as Todd nods obediently to the client’s monologue, and expression of feigned interest crossing his face. Dirk’s listening – he is, shut up, Farah – but he’s also glancing frequently at the smaller man with blatant adoration.

It’s damn near painful.

As the client stops for breath, Todd jumps in quickly, and Farah can almost feel the need for caffeine emanating from him. “I’m just going to grab a drink, would you like another latte, Joan?”

“Ah, that would be wonderful,” the woman smiles indulgently, a glimmer of near-maternal pride reflecting in her eyes.  
Todd gives a dutiful nod, and heads off to the counter, leaving Dirk and Farah alone with their ageing client. Joan turns her motherly expression to the former now, smiling wide. For a moment, Farah thinks she’s going to lean over and squeeze his cheeks, and kind of hopes she will if just to see Dirk’s response. He’d probably love it, the bastard. 

“You know, I’m so pleased that you boys are safe now. Back in my day, you couldn't be a gay in public, oh no, it was so blasphemous-"

This elicits a snort from Farah, and Dirk shoots her a look before turning to face Joan. He offers a smile. “Todd and I, we aren’t—together. Your sentiment is lovely, though,” he says, though the glance he throws to the café counter basically gives him away. 

Farah quirks a brow at this, and for a second, she thinks Joan returns it. “My apologies, dear,” the elderly woman says, rose-painted lips turning up at the corners. “You had me fooled.”

 _Pity_ , Farah thinks. _They’re not fooling anyone else_.

 

**_plus one_ **

The prophesised wedding is on a Thursday. It rains, but that hardly matters when they’re inside. It beats a soothing tattoo of raindrops on the registry office roof, the heavens no match for the sheer joy emanating from Dirk at the front of the room.

For his part, Todd too is radiating happiness, but also an element of relief; the realisation that this is not going away any time soon.

It’s strange, Farah thinks, as she watches from her seat. For all the times she’s caught the pair engaging in much more… vulgar behaviour, only now does she feel like she’s intruding on something intensely private. Dirk’s fingers are entwined with Todd’s, the most innocent of contact, but even looking feels like a breach of privacy.

They file out after the service. Amanda excuses herself to fix tear-stained makeup in the bathroom with her mother, and the Rowdies don’t stay for pictures, instead whooping and hollering with pent-up energy as they make for the van. After a quiet moment with his son – a firm shoulder pat and a murmured sentiment – Todd’s father goes to fetch his camera from the car, eager to immortalise the moment no matter how much Todd protests. This leaves Farah and the newlyweds clustering like cattle under the shelter of the building’s lipped roof. Todd laughs, joking about the rain being just his luck, but there’s no sadness in it; just pure, unadulterated joy – a rarity.

“I’ve always wanted to kiss in the rain,” Dirk beams, tugging Todd away down the steps for a moment alone. He pulls Todd close under the spray, and they stand there, breath mingling in the space between them. “It’s romantic.”

“You’re such a soppy nerd,” Todd laughs breathlessly, hands moving to Dirk’s waist with a smile. His boyfriend- _husband –_ grins teasingly, leaning close to let their noses touch, feather-light.

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ soppy nerd.”

Something tight and electric forms in Todd’s stomach at the possessive note, a buzzing excitement he can’t quite contain. “That you are,” he murmurs, before closing the gap completely.

From her place under the roof, Farah almost has to look away, an overwhelming urge to let this moment stay private.

She stays looking the other way for a while, until soft hands sneak from behind to rest at her waist. The reflex to reach for a gun kicks in, but it dissipates when she feels the tell-tale chin on her shoulder and smells that sweet black cherry scent that always seems to cling to Amanda’s hair.

“Guess they can’t deny they’re a couple now, huh?” Amanda laughs softly, her breath tickling Farah’s ear insistently. Farah returns the grin, letting her gaze return to the entwined couple under the rain. They’re drenched, now, shirts soaked through enough to be nearly transparent. It doesn’t seem to bother either.

“I’d like to see Dirk try,” she murmurs, relaxing in Amanda’s embrace. She doesn’t think it will be a problem any more.

**Author's Note:**

> I rarely take prompts because I am really bad at fulfilling things, but Cecil is a wonderful human and excellent friend, so this is for her. I hope it lives up to those expectations!
> 
> If you enjoyed this, you can see more from me on my [tumblr](http://eponymousorange.tumblr.com).
> 
> I hope all of you are having a lovely day, sorry all my fics end in weddings at the minute <3


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